Never Mind The Bollocks
by AnorexicWalrus
Summary: AU. Alfred hated living in London, until he met Arthur. Arthur was unhappy, until he met Alfred. This was discontinued from chapter nine by the original writer, Adulson. Go to her page and read the first few chapters first and read her update of chapter ten to understand the story author situation.


**Please read: **This story was originally being written by Adulson. However, she tired of the Hetalia series, thus this progressing story, so announced that whoever wanted to could adopt it and finish it. I, not wanting to see such a nice story go unfinished, volunteered and she kindly gave me the details of the remaining plot for me to work with.  
Sadly, I am not as good a writer as Adulson, but I shall do my best to do this story justice. I hope you old fans of this story will stick with it, despite the change in author.  
I shan't be uploading the first nine chapters - you can find those on Adulson's page. I shall only be going from chapter ten onwards, so if you're new to this and you haven't seen the first nine chapters then hurry on to Adulson's page and get reading (and read some of her other works while you're there - she's good)!  
Thank you for reading, and now you may proceed with chapter ten of Never Mind The Bollocks:

* * *

"Arthur. Let's rent an apartment together!"

Arthur was stunned, to say the least. _Alfred _wanted to live in an apartment with _him_? They had been friends for a while now and managed to get along well, but were they really flatmate worthy? Of course some flatmates were total strangers to one another at the start, but…It seemed too good to be true.

"Oh, ha-ha, Alfred." he grimaced and turned back over, "Nice joke, but I'm still tired, so…"

"I'm not joking, man! I'm being super serious!" Alfred cried, "I need help to keep up the apartment, and you need a better place – this is totally logical!"

Arthur lay still, just thinking for a moment. If Alfred _wasn't _joking, and this idea _was _logical and not actually a barbaric one in the guise of a logical one, then maybe…just maybe, if he could get lucky for once…then they _could _actually become flatmates. Proper flatmates who tossed their rubbish on the floor and shrugged at each other as they lied about cleaning up later; proper flatmates who argued as much as they harmonised in a weirdly blissful relationship between flatmate and flatmate; proper flatmates who…well, Arthur didn't really know what else flatmates did since he had never had one (he had had Peter, but he was his brother, so it didn't really count). However, if he accepted Alfred's offer then he could find out for himself what flatmates did.

Alfred's face looked hopeful as Arthur sat up to look at him again, and though he felt just as hopeful and nervous and excited in the same instant he managed to just let out a mere sigh and a nod of confirmation.

"I suppose it _is _logical…"

Alfred's smile couldn't have been wider, and he clasped Arthur's hands in his own as he wiggled about excitedly on the bed.

"Man, Artie, this is going to be _great_! We'll have _so much_ fun, and we'll be able to watch movies and stay up late like this _all _the _time_, and…"

Arthur was only half-listening to Alfred's ramblings now, nodding at intervals where Alfred asked such things as _"Exciting, right?" _for he was far too busy focusing on the rather warm hands holding his, trying to repress a blush which was creeping to his cheeks.

"Dude, we should get your stuff pretty soon, because I'm going to be moving out pretty soon, so…"

Arthur freed a hand from Alfred's grip and clamped it over the American's mouth in a swift movement. Alfred stared baffled at Arthur whilst the Briton frowned in return.

"That's nice, Alfred, but I am _still _tired, so good bloody night, okay?"

Alfred just licked Arthur's hand, causing him to whip it away quickly, his lips contorting as he wiped the saliva-covered palm on the couch, with Alfred just laughing in that way which Arthur couldn't quite pinpoint as annoying or endearing.

"Whatever you say, man. Night."

And with that Alfred turned over, laid himself down and closed his eyes. Arthur stared at him at first, watching as his form rose and fell as he breathed, but then he just shook his head and failed to hold back a smile as he turned away too and thought about his future as a flatmate.

XxXxXxXxXx

Arthur sighed contentedly as he stood in the middle of the small flat and did a 360° turn, nodding at the features: the quaint kitchen, much better than the wreck of beaten countertops, a bruised microwave and a fridge with a light that flickered on and off constantly that he was familiar with; the bathroom, which he did not want to compare to his own for this one would win without a doubt; two comfy-looking bedrooms, with light and space which Arthur hadn't had in a long time; and the living room, with wide windows which let warm streaks of sun into the room. Arthur was very content indeed. Alfred, however, was not.

"Dude, this sucks." he pouted, kicking at dust entrails, "Where am I gonna fit six hundred comic books in this shoebox?"

Arthur frowned at him, "Would you rather struggle to afford a massive flat?"

Alfred said nothing, but he continued to pout as he wandered into one of the identical bedrooms, claiming it as his own. Arthur shrugged and turned to Francis standing in the doorway.

"Thank you very much for this." he smiled, "We owe you one."

"What, this?" Francis laughed, "This is nothing. Anytime, _mon ami_! With that said, anything else you need?"

Arthur shook his head, "No, we just need to move our stuff into here, Alfred and I. We'll manage, thanks. My stuff should just take one trip anyway."

Francis winked, "Well, if it's just one trip then we can make that trip in my car. No trouble."

Arthur blinked, "You have a car? Since when?"

Francis laughed, "Oh, ages. I just prefer walking." Arthur chuckled with him, high in spirits, and accepted the car ride. When he told Alfred where he was off to, Alfred wanted to come too. Arthur refused however; he didn't want Alfred to see the pathetic conditions he had been living under.

A couple of minutes later, Arthur exhaled as he got into the passenger seat of the car and buckled himself in, enjoying the hum of the vehicle as it was revved.

"Alfred was quite disappointed when you wouldn't let him come, _non_?"

Arthur turned to Francis, watching as he tugged the gear stick about and backed the car out of the drive, "I can't have him following me around everywhere like a puppy."

"Ah, but the thing about puppies is they follow those of interest to them – those they adore, and sometimes even love."

Arthur raised a thick eyebrow at the Frenchman, "What are you getting at?"

Francis smirked, "Never mind. You may not understand my wise words now, but someday you might."

Arthur scoffed, "You're about as wise as a monkey." But despite this snide comment, Francis still wore a knowing smile.

XxXxXxXxXx

Alfred frowned a little to himself as he packed the last few boxes. So much had changed for him in such a short span of time. It wasn't long ago when he was unpacking these boxes and arguing with his brother about whether the placing of ornaments, and agreeing that the Captain America shower curtain would be put up as long as there was a maple leaf on the bathroom door. Now he was packing it all up again, right after he was getting comfortable. And where his brother arrived here with him, his brother would not be leaving with him. It was somewhat unsettling and nerve wrecking. A smile returned to Alfred's lips though as he remembered who he was going to be living with now.

Arthur.

Now, as he wished, he would get to see Arthur every day. He'd wake up in the morning, stumble out of his bedroom, and there would be Arthur, looking equally as sleepy, and they would eat breakfast and discuss how they slept, and then they would brush their teeth in synchronisation as they got ready for work, and at the end of the work day they would settle down together and have dinner before they'd watch movies or read comics (if he could get Arthur into that kind of thing) and then wish each other a good night and go to their separate bedrooms, and when the morning came their routine would repeat.

Okay, maybe it wouldn't play out _exactly _like that, but something similar would be just as good. Alfred grinned to himself now as he packed the last box, excited for this change.

XxXxXxXxXx

Arthur, with his little possessions in his arms and suitcase of his clothes in Francis's, took one last look around the place. Goodbye, peeling paint on the walls; goodbye, lack of electricity; goodbye, lack of water; goodbye, shit facilities; goodbye, melting candles; goodbye, crap old home. Never again would he have to come home to grubby darkness and watch the matches for his candles dwindle away. Never again would he have to listen to the groans and moans of the rooms as they settled. Never again would he have to consume cold food or food which was weeks old. Never again would he have to smell the lack of cleanliness and need of a good scrub which emanated in every nook and cranny.

"You ready to go, Arthur?"

Arthur turned to Francis standing in the doorway, and with a weak smile and an equally weak nod he joined Francis in the doorway. There he took one last lingering look into his ex-home, although he could see nothing for the darkness, and then shut the door on it.

XxXxXxXxXx

The next day was moving day. Well, for Alfred at least. Arthur and Francis had already deposited the Briton's belongings in the small flat the previous night. Now though, as they stared at the sea of boxes on the floor, they were all dreading this step. Arthur and Alfred had even gotten extra help from Francis, Matthew and Gilbert, and they were definitely grateful for it.

Finally, Matthew stepped forward from the row of gawkers and rolled up his sleeves, smiling encouragingly at the others. Gilbert followed with Arthur, and along with him stepped Alfred. Francis stepped forward too, and then the heavy lifting started.

It was hell.

"Oh, careful with that one!" Alfred cried, biting his lip, "Francis, don't just yank that one around! Oh, don't drop it like that either! Gilbert! Are you using my boxes as weights?"

Gilbert flashed a toothy grin, "Totally. I could get buff doing this."

Matthew smiled up at him, "I think you're fine just the way you are, Gil."

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Take the sap elsewhere, dudes. This is a battlefield." Alfred startled at pressure on his shoulder, and he turned to see Arthur furrowing his brows at him.

"And why, dear Alfred, are _you _not lifting anything?"

Alfred puffed out his chest, "I'm supervising." He deflated quickly though as Arthur roughly shoved a box into his chest.

"You haven't got muscles for no reason. Use them."

Alfred groaned and hauled the box away, quietly mocking Arthur's voice all the way. When he was out of earshot, Matthew turned to Arthur and sniggered silently.

"I'm impressed at how you handle him, Arthur."

"_Oui_, how do you do it?"

Arthur winked at them, "He's like a child. I just treat him like Peter when the young lad's having a rebellious day." That set them all off chortling, resulting in a confused Alfred when he walked back into the room.

"What are you all laughin' at?"

"Nothing." they chorused, although they kept on giggling every now and then, much to Alfred's disdain.

An hour and a half of secret sniggering and weight hauling later, the last box was dropped onto the small floor of the flat, and everyone breathed out a sigh of relief. It was done, and they could rest. They all did just that, collapsing onto the floor, with Alfred and Gilbert high-fiving one another and Matthew and Francis complimenting each other's hard work. Arthur rested with them for a bit, but it wasn't long before he slipped away from the weary bunch, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen and disappearing into his room. There he sat and began to write a letter.

_Dear Peter,_

_How are you? Well, I hope. I'm sure you'll feel even better when you hear that I'm doing just fine and making steady progress. That job at the café I told you about in my last letter is going well for me, and I'm now getting a decent income. I can already see myself being able to afford to take care of you once again in future._

_Not only is work going well, but I am moving into a better flat with a nice chap called Alfred. Finally, I'll have working electricity and water to go home to, and a comfy bed along with edible meals. Things seem to be getting better and better, Peter, for both of us, and I can't wait to finally have you back so as to discuss our new-found fortune._

_Enough about me though, what have you been up to? Is school alright? Is Erin taking care of you? I can't wait to hear your reply._

_Love, Arthur_

Just as Arthur finished writing, Alfred appeared in the doorway, grinning despite his tiredness.

"Hey, we're about to have drinks. Want some?"

Arthur folded the letter and left it on his bed to be mailed later, getting up and dusting himself off, "Do you even need to ask?"

They both chuckled as they made their way back to the small group, and Arthur could certainly envision a bright future waiting for him just around the corner.

* * *

**Author's notes: And there you have my attempt at doing Adulson's story justice. I hope you liked it, people, and shall stick with it until the very end! I'm not going to leak out the remaining plot to you, but trust me when I say it's exciting (I hope I can imitate the excitement in my writing)!  
Critique is welcomed, comments are appreciated!  
Thank you and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Alfred, Arthur, Peter, Matthew, Gilbert and Francis belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. Never Mind The Bollocks belongs to Adulson.**

**AnorexicWalrus~**


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